


The Jewel of the Vale

by Taffeelatty



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Catboys & Catgirls, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Rape/Non-con Elements, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Supernatural Elements, Underage Character, Underage Sex, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-05 19:57:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taffeelatty/pseuds/Taffeelatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place in Earth's distant future where humans, cat people, were creatures and other preternaturals all struggle for power. The unveiling of a dark secret will change the future for everybody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  
> The Jewel of the Vale © 2012 Taffeelatty (pen name). Reproduction, duplication, distribution, derivative works, and other unauthorized copying prohibited.

"No, don't! Please, no, noooo…" 

Tibor heard the anguished cry a mere few yards from where he rode along on his way back to the tavern. It seemed to come from the dark alley just to his right. This was the seedier part of the royal city of Shevlon, so dubious shenanigans in the shadows were to be expected, but this sounded like somebody was in serious trouble. The young valo turned his furry, extremely flexible ears in the direction of the dark alley. The loud wailing had stopped, but with his superior valo hearing Tibor could make out some muffled shuffling, men’s’ voices and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Tibor knew it would be best to simply ride on and mind his own business, but that was not in his nature. 

With an internal sigh he dismounted his horse, drew his trustworthy old sword and ventured cautiously into the alley. In this part of town there were no streetlights, but the moon was high and valos had excellent night vision so Tibor could see without any difficulties as to what was going on at the end of the small alley. And what he saw looked pretty bad. Three scruffy looking humans stood in a half-circle facing a stonewall that marked the end of the alley. A fourth man leaned against the wall, in front of a much smaller body of whom Tibor only saw a pair of naked struggling legs. The man had one of his arms stemmed against the wall for balance; the other was wrapped around the body in front of him. His breeches were pulled down to his knees and his quick jerky hip movements left no imagination to what he was doing. The other three cheered him on. 

"Go on, give it to him. Show the half breed what a real man can do. Yeah, teach him. Those animals like it rough." 

The boy, the small figure definitely was no grown man, whimpered pitiably and begged again.

"Lemme go, please, please, oh please…" 

It earned him a rough slap on the side. Tibor had seen enough. This wasn’t a fair fight among equals; this was plain and simple abuse of the worst sort. The sort that made his blood boil. He wasn't sure, if he would be able to take on four men, but that didn't matter. He had to try and hope for the best. The men reeked of cheap ale, so they were obviously drunk and that might slow down their reflexes. 

"Hey, scum, wanna have fun with somebody your size?" Tibor shouted. 

All four men jerked their heads simultaneously in his direction. They'd been too engrossed in the rape so they hadn't heard him approach. 

"Look, another dirty valo. Yeah, we gonna have fun with you after we're done with the little bastard here,” one of the men sneered. 

He staggered in Tibor's direction pulling out a vicious looking dagger. So Tibor had guessed right, they were too drunk to put up a serious fight, but they were armed and there was four of them after all. The one approaching Tibor was no serious threat though; he could barely stand up straight let alone walk anymore. The man waived his dagger about and aimed in the general direction of Tibor's body, but missed him by a good few inches. With one swift controlled stroke of his sword Tibor cut the man's throat. With a gurgling sound the man fell to the ground. Tibor didn't bother with him anymore for he knew the man was fatally wounded. Now the other three became more cautious. The one who'd raped the boy had turned around fully and pulled up his breeches with one hand while with the other he pulled out a poniard and pointed left and right. 

"Get him from both sides", he shouted at the other two men. 

He was obviously the head of this quartet of scumbags. Tibor knew it was always best to go for the leader, so with a lightning fast move he aimed for the man. Unfortunately this man wasn't so drunk after all. He dodged the sword and got into a fighting stance that showed he'd had some sort of warrior training in the past. The other two went at Tibor from both sides as ordered. Unorthodox methods were called for now. Tibor grabbed his sword with both hands, held it horizontally in front of his body and then just kept whirling around as fast as he could. It wasn't classical swordsmanship, but Tibor couldn't care less and it was effective. He sliced the leader in the stomach and saw the man topple over. The man to his left got a deep gush on his upper arm. The third man suddenly stopped his attack, turned around and scampered out of the alley, not waiting to see what would happen to his accomplices. The leader was kneeling on the floor, holding his injured stomach with both hands screaming loudly. A well-aimed blow from Tibor's sword finished him of. The remaining man held up his injured arm and dropped his dagger. 

"Please, don't kill me. I won't do anything." 

Tibor still was in a rage and he would've loved to kill that man as well, but the man was unarmed now and to kill him would've been plain and simple murder. Not that the man didn’t deserve it, but Tibor was no perfidious killer, therefore he only nodded. The man took that as an affirmative to let him live and ran out of the alley.

Not bothering with the two dead men Tibor walked over to the small lump that was half lying half leaning against the wall. He knelt in front of the boy and slowly put his now bloody sword down, then held up both hands. 

"I won't harm you. You're safe now." 

No reaction, apart from a barely audible whimper. What he could see of the boy were leggy, naked limbs covered in dirt and a long mane of filthy hair. Tibor couldn't even begin to guess at those tangled locks’ original color, but he could see small, grayish, pointed ears peeking out from that filthy mane. This boy was no valo although he had the furry ears of a valo. His ears were much smaller than a valos and more pointed at the tips. 

"Please, let me look at your wounds. Then I'll take you to a healer," Tibor softly offered. 

Slowly the boy lifted his head. One fearful eye peeked out from under the long dirty strands covering his face. One slitted pupil regarded him solemnly. This definitely was no valo. Valos resembled humans, except for the furry ears and long retractable talons. Their pupils were round like humans. 

Tibor took a closer look at the boy’s battered body and noticed a small, nervously twitching furry tail. What he saw confirmed his supposition. This boy was a paly. Tibor had never met a living paly before and only knew what they looked like from stories and old paintings he had seen. Palys had become practically extinct by the end of the Dark War. That was eons ago, when there had been open warfare between humans and preternaturals. After the war finally ended there were no victors, and the world had changed forever. Tibor had heard rumors that bleak times like these might arise again in the future. One could already perceive the signs. The Northlands had never been a friendly place for preternaturals, but in the last decades some human settlements there had become outright hostile to all non-humans. Tibor couldn't understand the humans’ hate. He came from a Southland town where humans and preternaturals from all walks of live lived peacefully side by side; some even bonded and raised families together. 

"Can you stand up?" Tibor asked gently. 

The boy nodded and allowed Tibor to help him to a standing position. Panting heavily the boy leaned against the wall. He was a pitiful sight, his small body covered in bruises and bleeding wounds as well as scabbed over cuts and he was way too thin. His tail was a dirty gray. Tibor knew healthy palys had snow-white ears and tails; those were their most notable feature as well as the slitted pupils. The boy looked down on the floor his face contorted in pain. He looked totally exhausted. Next to him on the floor were the tattered remains of his clothing. 

"I'm Tibor. My horse is just at the end of the alley. I'll take you to a healer." 

The boy shook his head. 

"Not tonight please", he said timidly. 

"Of course, tonight. You're hurt badly and the sooner a healer sees you, the sooner he can do something for the pain." 

Some valos had healing magic, but Tibor was not one of them. He couldn't do anything for the boy here. 

"I … I can't pay you tonight", the boy whispered, "I'm too damaged.”

Distressed Tibor realized what the boy was implying. How could he expect that Tibor wanted to use his mangled abused body in that way? What did he think Tibor was? A monster like those pigs that had raped him? 

"You don't have to pay me in any way. You don't have to pay me at all," he assured the boy

"But the healer wants payment”, the boy answered peremptorily, "and I won't let you pay the healer. You've saved my life and I'll be forever in your debt.”

Tibor shook his head at the boy’s stubbornness. 

"No, don't worry about that. It was nothing. You know what; I'll take you back to the tavern where I’m staying. There we can clean your wounds and you can get something to eat. And no, I don’t want you to pay for that." 

"I'm fine. You don't need to do that". 

The boy pushed himself off the wall and bent down to pick up his clothes. He swayed a bit and then just tumbled to the floor. Tibor had just time to catch him, before the boy was out like a light. That made negotiations as who owed whom and who paid what so much easier Tibor thought. Grabbing the boy’s rags but not bothering with dressing him he carefully picked up the frail little creature and carried him over to his horse which stood patiently at the end of alley. It was no small feat to get himself and the unconscious boy on the horses back, but Tibor finally managed. The boy hadn't moved at all which was probably for the best Tibor thought. 

The tavern was at the outskirts of the city of Shevlon. It was small and the rooms were modest with basic amenities, but it was clean and the proprietors were a friendly elderly human couple who didn't mind renting out to valos or other preternaturals. 

Tibor came from a family of tradesmen. While his two elder brothers helped his fathers in their business Tibor wasn't cut out for settling down and staying in one place. He was better suited to traveling the different kingdoms and establishing trade relations with local merchants.

That’s what Tibor been doing last night as he had spent several hours negotiating with a local tradesman. They'd sealed their contract with a few drinks and it was well past midnight when Tibor had left the trader and stumbled across the boy and his attackers. So it was no surprise the tavern was quiet and the taproom was deserted. It was less hassle that way, he wouldn't have to explain why he carried an unconscious and hurt paly in his arms. 

He got the boy upstairs into his room and laid him carefully on his bed and then went downstairs again to care for his horse. On the way back he headed for the kitchen. He was lucky as it was deserted as well. There was a night fire in the hearth and a kettle filled with hot water atop the stove. With the kettle he went back upstairs to his room. The boy was still unconscious. Tibor didn't know if it was due to the wounds he'd received that night or general exhaustion. In the room's candlelight he examined the naked boy. Tibor didn't know whether palys aged the same as valos, so it was hard to estimate how old the boy might be. Tibor pegged him to be about 13 or 14 years. He was quite smal, five feet and a couple of inches at the most. He was underfed with sharply protruding hipbones and angular limps. Nevertheless despite his neglected, dirty and disheveled appearance the boy was quite pretty with his heart shaped face, thick long eyelashes and generous sensuous mouth. 

Tibor poured the water from the kettle in a small washbowl sitting on the commode and with a towel he'd ‘borrowed’ from the linen closet in the bathroom he began to meticulously clean the boy’s wounds. Judging from the various bleeding cuts the boy had obviously gotten a severe beating prior to the rape. After he'd cleaned the boy's front he turned him over. Goddess his back was even worse. Tibor noticed fresh and old whipping marks on his small buttocks and lower back. His inner thighs were covered in dried semen and blood. It took a lot of refilling of the washbowl and he had to boil the kettle twice before he got the boy passably cleaned up. Luckily aside from an occasional whimper the boy didn't stir.

Out of his saddle pack Tibor got a healing salve. It would stave of infection and also numb the pain a bit. He carefully rubbed it over the boy’s back. After attending to the boy Tibor took inspection of his own bedraggled appearance. He wasn't hurt in the fight, but his tunic and breeches were caked in already dried blood. They were only good enough to be thrown away. That made him check out the boy's clothing, if one could call those tattered rags that. There was nothing in the pockets and he was just about to throw the clothes back on the floor when he felt something at the hemline of the trousers, some sort of hard lump that shouldn't be there. Obviously something was sewn into the hem. Tibor got a small knife and carefully unstitched the seam. He retrieved a small oval shaped glass stone, definitely no gemstone of any sorts. Even if it wasn't valuable, it surely must be important to the boy otherwise he wouldn't have had it hidden in his trousers’ hemline. Tibor put the stone on the table next to the washbowl. He quickly undressed, washed himself and lay down next to the sleeping boy and finally pulled the thin blanket over both of their bodies immediately to settling into a deep exhausted sleep.

Tibor woke up feeling constrained and a bit too warm for his liking. He identified the source of the unaccustomed heat as the paly boy who had over the course of the night crawled on top of him and clutched tightly at his arms now. Although his small body was warm it was not feverish hot which Tibor took for a good sign. 

"You sure are heavy for such a little thing", Tibor said good humoredly to the softly snoring form, while he gently disengaged himself from the boy. A sleepy murmur was all he got in response. The boy wiggled around a bit to get comfortable again and tried to pull Tibor back to his body. It was a good job he was still not fully conscious Timor thought, because the close proximity of the boy had awoken other parts of him as well. And after last night's ordeal he didn't want to frighten the boy. The boy was very pretty and lying there on the bed all warm and pliant and gloriously naked one had to be made of stone or one of Goddess Aneva’s eunuch monks to not get affected by that. Feeling ashamed of his own arousal Tibor hastily put on his trousers grabbed a shirt and his boots and left the small room to go to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. He was still half hard when he got there. With a few hard jerks Tibor took care of himself. 

After that he splashed a bit of water in his face and went downstairs into the tavern’s taproom. Although it was still early it was quite busy and the broad-shouldered tall girl who tended the bar at night was now bustling busily among patrons who wanted their breakfast. Tibor sat down at the end of an empty table by the door and waited for his turn.

When the girl finally came over to him he asked her to prepare him a tray to take upstairs to his room. If she was surprised by his request she didn't show it and just put down a hot plate filled with deliciously smelling food a few minutes later. Tibor asked for a pot of hot milk. Now that earned him a raised eyebrow. Adult valos were known to drink water or tea, occasionally ale, but hot milk was not their preferred choice of drink. She served him the milk nevertheless. Tibor took his tray upstairs to his room. 

Upon opening the door he was surprised to find the boy was not in bed anymore. He wasn't in the room at all. He'd probably gone to the bathroom Tibor mused. Then he noticed the glass stone next to the bowl had gone as well as the boy’s rags. With a sinking feeling Tibor went to the bathroom. It was unlocked and the boy wasn't in it. Tibor checked the linen closet, next he looked up and down the hallway. There was nowhere for a boy to hide. Just a hallway with four doors on each side, the bathroom at one end and the staircase at the other. Tibor hurried downstairs.

"Have you seen a young valo half breed coming down here?" he asked the barmaid. 

He wouldn't bother with explaining that the boy was a paly. To a human he would look like a valo with a furry tail.

She shook her head. “Nobody came down while you were here." 

Of course, she could've missed the boy being as busy as she was. He went in front of the tavern without much hope and looked up and down the narrow street. There were already too many people, carts and animals on the street for him to able to "smell” the boy, despite his exceptional scenting ability.

The little paly had vanished into the maze of city streets.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a rape scene. It's not very explicit and fairly short, so you can easily skip over it, if this subject matter bothers you.

Jannik cowered in one corner of the dark, damp cellar he called home. The house the cellar used to be a part of had burned down years ago and the owners had stopped halfway through its reconstruction as they had run out of money. Over the years, the derelict ruin had become home for a motley crew of bums, drunkards, and child whores with no pimp for protection.

Jannik drew his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around them and stared sightlessly into semi-darkness. Last night had been a scene straight out of a nightmare. When he’d approached the four drunken men loitering in front of the flophouse, he already knew it might not be the best of ideas. However, he hadn’t eaten in two days and was feeling a bit lightheaded from the lack of food and he was desperate. He offered each of the men a blowjob for only ten kreds each. They agreed as they glared at him with contempt, but he’d seen those expressions a hundred times before, that mixture of lust and scornfulness.

Jannik knew why men looked at him that way. He was an abomination, a worthless half-breed as he’d been told often enough. He wasn’t tall and muscular like a true-bred valo. No, he was lithe and lissome like a cat with feline eyes and matching tail. Only his ears resembled his valo heritage somewhat, but Jannik had no clue as to what type of creature his non-valo parent might've been.

He knew non-humans like him solely lived on sufferance in the royal city of Shevlon so he never ventured into the nicer parts of the city and only sold his body in the run-down area he’d lived in for almost seven years. His customers were brutish human rogues who treated him like shit, yet Jannik knew that he should be grateful that they even condescended to let him touch them. It went without saying that he couldn't expect to be paid the same as a human whore.

Jannik had no memory of his birth family at all. His earliest recollection was of Shadum, a friendly, withered old man. Shadum was a non-human like him. He looked and acted human most of the time, save for every full moon when he changed into a frightful looking, fur covered beast. He looked a bit like a giant dog, but much fiercer. A 'werewolf' Shadum called it.

They had already traveled for two years together, yet Shadum had managed to keep his werewolf a secret from Jannik. Back in those days, Jannik slept the deep, trustful sleep of a young child and had never witnessed Shadum’s monthly change before. One night though, Jannik was about five years old, Shadum made him stay awake to witness his transformation into a werewolf.

“You, don’t need to be afraid, sweet. I know who you are at all times and I would never hurt you. I like to hunt in this form. I'm strong and carefree, but I’ll never ever hurt you”, he assured his young charge.

Even so, Jannik felt a slight bout of panic when he saw Shadum in his werewolf form for the first time. He calmed somewhat when he realized that Shadum had told him the truth, the brown eyes that looked at Jannik with a gentle and calming expression were the familiar dark brown color of Shadum’s eyes and after Jannik got over the initial shock he lost his fear all together and enjoyed stroking Shadum’s beautiful, surprisingly soft gray-white fur.

Every full moon Shadum changed into his beast form for three nights in a row then pelted off into the night, only to return bloodied and sated the next morning. He never explained to Jannik the why and wherefore of his monthly change and Jannik accepted it with a child’s candid openness to the supernatural.

They peacefully traveled the northern kingdom of Yallellow avoiding villages and towns as much as possible. Whenever they had to go into human settlements to replenish their meager supplies, Jannik was uncomfortably aware of the townsfolks’ hostile and aggressive stares. The first time he was called a heinous freak it deepened that ineffable fear inside of him.

“Humans are weird that way,” Shadum explained. “If they encounter something unknown to them they fear it and if they fear something they become more feral than the wildest beasts imaginable.”

Jannik didn’t understand it then, but got wary of humans nonetheless.

Shadum was gentle and treated him with respect. He never called him heinous and was even kind enough to lie to Jannik, telling him he was handsome and pretty.

“I’m not sure what race you are, Janni, but you must have some valo blood with those cute little pointers of yours”, Shadum good-naturedly teased on occasion while ruffling Jannik's furry ears.

They were poor and outcast, but Jannik felt safe and loved. Until that fateful night nearly eight years ago when Shadum did not return from one of his outings as a werewolf. Jannik waited patiently for two weeks, huddled close to the tent feeling forlorn and miserable. Eventually he ran out of water and food. Lost at what to do he hiked for two days until he reached the royal city of Shevlon.

That’s where he stayed all those years since, secretly hoping Shadum would return to him one day, although if he was honest with himself he knew Shadum had to be dead.

When Jannik first arrived in Shevlon, he was a scared seven-year-old child who knew little about humans and their malignant ways and he had to learn to fend for himself. Luckily, one of the older boys took pity on him and took him under his wings. He showed Jannik a way to make money by selling his young body or rather his nimble hands and succulent mouth.

Jannik never let the men touch him down ‘there’. That honor would be reserved for someone special. Although he knew, he was only an ugly half-breed and it surely was never going to happen, Jannik frequently indulged in his favorite dream where one day a dashing, handsome prince would whisk him away, take him to his castle and there they would make love day and night and live happily ever after. To this prince he would give his anal virginity, except the four men he’d met last night had made sure that it was not his to give anymore

At first Jannik didn’t think any of it when the men led him away from the flophouse into a nearby alley. Dark alleys or back yards, that’s where he usually serviced his customers. Once they got there, the men shared a bottle of a foul smelling liquid. Jannik had seen his human clients do that before, they drank it so they could get it up more than once. He wondered why they did that, when he was only to give them a single blowjob each. Maybe the needed some herbal help after all the alcohol they'd consumed. The men lined up and pulled out their filthy, flaccid cocks. Jannik knelt in front of them and starting the grueling task of sucking each one of them off. When he finally stood up to collect the little money, they'd agreed upon the nightmare started.

“Where do you think you’re going, freak. We’re not finished with you," the group's brutish leader scoffed at him.

“I did what you paid me to do and you got off,” Jannik answered taken aback.

“Yeah, we got off alright, but it was still a lousy blowjob. You didn’t even swallow it all,” the man griped.

Jannik didn’t know what to answer. Did they really think he could swallow four men’s come in one go?

“So you have to work a bit harder,” the man added. “Get him ready and take those damn pants off him,” he then ordered his cronies.

As the men seized him, Jannik fought with all he was worth, but to no avail. Even though they were quite drunk, he was no serious match for the two men holding him while the third ripped off his trousers. The leader was the first to start on Jannik, using only his spit as lube. When he pushed into Jannik’s unprepared virginal anal passage Jannik screamed like a banshee. It felt like he was speared with a red-hot poker. They all took turns in raping him and the pain was worse than anything Jannik had ever felt before.

"Hey, Pete, let's cut of his tail," one of the man suggested after each had taken their fill.

Ice-cold fear raced through Jannik's abused body. On a primal level, he knew he wouldn't survive the abscission of his tail.

"Nah, got somethin' better than that." Pete, the leader grinned maliciously.

He untied the rope that served as his belt and while two of them pressed Jannik’s chest flat against the stonewall the other two took turns in using the makeshift whip on him with a few fisticuffs thrown in for good measure. Jannik could only hope that they would tire soon and that he'd survive the night somehow. Whenever the pain got too much, he couldn't stop himself from pathetically pleading with the men, but it only got them more excited and Jannik watched in helpless anguish as he saw them becoming erect again. The men were just starting on their second round when the valo emerged out of nowhere.

Jannik couldn’t understand for the life of him why Tibor wanted to help a paltry half-breed like him. Maybe he did it out of pity for a fellow member of his species. He was half valo after all.

Jannik felt a bit guilty for running away this morning, but although Tibor seemed genuinely friendly, Jannik knew that some sort of payment was expected, despite Tibor's effort of trying to convince him of the contrary, and he had nothing to offer except for his body. After the previous night's events, he couldn't stomach repaying the valo's kindness with sex, even though he found him incredibly attractive.

"Hey, mongrel, what happened to you?" An amicable voice cut off Jannik's musings.

A small guy walked over to Jannik. In the cellar's dimness he looked like a boy, because he wasn't tall, just a bit over four feet, but Jannik knew Gavin was in his late twenties. Gavin was a midget. Jannik would never forget their first meeting,

"Hello kitten, I'm Gavin the dwarf and I’m just the right height for sucking cock," Gavin had said by way of introduction.

Jannik got so embarrassed he didn't know where to look or what to say. Shadum had told him stories of dwarfs, but Jannik had always thought they were fairy-tale creatures like elves and gnomes. Gavin explained to him that he was most definitely human and as lifelike as you could get, albeit a bit on the short side. Gavin was as ugly as they would come, but he didn't seem to mind at all and he was quite popular with the men. He taught Jannik the ropes of being a whore including giving Jannik his first blowjob, solely for educational purposes, as he kept reminding Jannik.

"Have you heard about it?” Gavin asked. “Pete, the Beet, got snuffed last night. They made him into goulash, tasty edible pieces."

"Really?"

"Nah, not really stupid", admonished Gavin good-humoredly, "but somebody sliced up his bowels nice and good. He had it coming to him. Seemingly it was a valo that did it."

"Pete, the Beet?"

"Yep, apparently little Petey sort of looked like a beet. I wouldn't know, always stayed well clear of him. Be glad you never met him. He liked to hurt people to get his rocks of."

Jannik winced, Gavin's last sentence confirmed his suspicion that they were talking about the leader of his rapists. There couldn't be too many men called Pete, who were stabbed to death last night by a valo. Unperturbed Gavin chattered on.

"Pete was a pretty mean number and I think besides his younger brother Pritchard, nobody will miss him. Little bro's on a vendetta though. Swears death an' damnation to everything valo. That's why I'm telling you. You should lay low for a while. Even if you're just half a valo you pretty much look like one and you wouldn't want your mangy tail cut off, would you?"

Mention of his tail getting cut off made Jannik lose his last vestiges of self-control. Since he’d woken up this morning, he saw last night’s ghastly incident again and again in his mind’s eye. He had felt so helpless. Jannik quietly started sobbing. Even usually unobservant Gavin noticed that something was amiss.

"Hey, Jan, what's wrong? Why're you crying?"

Jannik knew he should keep quiet. Gavin was a friend of some sorts, but if he knew it was Jannik's fault Pete got killed he might be tempted to sell him out to Pete's brother, either to get a reward or just to get on the guy's good side. However, he was still not feeling his usual self so he blurted out everything that had happened last night. Blabbermouth Gavin was actually speechless for a moment.

"You should tell nobody," Gavin said eventually, "and you shouldn't have told me. But I'm not gonna rat you out. Like I said, Pete's death is no loss to anybody. You should warn that valo of yours though."

Gavin was probably right. Tibor had saved his life after all, and that would be a good way to show his gratitude, especially as it was solely through Jannik’s own stupidity that the valo got involved in it in the first place.

"You told me to hide for a few days so I can't go out to the tavern. It's right on the other side of town. Somebody might see me," Jannik worried.

"Pritchard's a boozehound. He sleeps all day and doesn't come out until the alehouses open for the night. You should be alright," Gavin assured him.

Somewhat comforted Jannik went over to a little wooden box in the corner. It held all of his worldly belongings, but they were so worthless Jannik didn't worry about them getting stolen. The only valuable object he had was the translucent stone he'd once gotten from Shadum all those years ago and he never let the stone out of sight. He pulled a pair of wool trousers and a linen tunic out of the box. They were the last items of clothing he possessed, his other pair had been ruined beyond wearable last night. Jannik had felt extremely self-conscious when he left the tavern only clad in those rags that left him barely covered. Jannik tied a small knot at the lapel of his tunic and secured his precious stone that way. He curled his tail around his waist and pulled the trousers’ waistband over it. It felt uncomfortable and was painful and his balance felt a bit off when he was walking, but he was more inconspicuous that way. Finally he was ready to go and if he was honest with himself he was quite looking forward to seeing the valiant, handsome valo again.

Jannik arrived at the tavern unmolested, nobody had given him a second look. The tavern was busy and there were too many people about for him to sneak up the stairs unobserved. Thank the Deities he knew the valo's name.

"I'm looking for a valo. His name is Tibor. Could you tell me, if he is in his room, please?," he politely asked the bar man in the taproom.

"Tibor d'Aristany or Tibor D'a Ventilo?"

Jannik hadn't realized that Tibor seemed to be a common forename among valos.

"Well, he's tall, in his twenties and has black, shoulder length hair and he's, uhm, rather good looking."

"Hey Martha, here's a young'un who’s quite smitten with our Master D'a Ventilo," the bartender shouted across the room to a tall, sturdy looking woman who was serving the patrons. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

Jannik was mortified as all eyes turned on him and people started snickering. The woman walked over to the bar and eyed him with curiosity.

"Master D'a Ventilo is usually not back 'til late. Do you want me to pass on a message?" she offered.

Jannik declined her offer. He couldn't trust a stranger with what he had to tell Tibor. As he left the tavern Jannik was at a loss at what to do. He was hungry, tired and exhausted. His wedged-in tail hurt and his whole body was sore, so he didn't feel up to trecking all the way back again to the house. Maybe he should sit down somewhere where he could keep an eye on the tavern's entrance. Jannik looked up and down the street and immediately found the perfect spot. Right on the other side of the street opposite the tavern, there was a small gap between two houses, and in the gap somebody had neatly stacked some crates. He could sit on them and would have a perfect view of the tavern's entrance. No sooner said than done, Jannik settled himself on one of the crates. Nobody took notice of the small figure waiting unobtrusively in the shadows. Sitting still for so long made him feel tired and he kept dozing on and off even though the crate he was perched upon was too uncomfortable to properly fall asleep. Yet when Jannik opened his eyes it was already dark where it had been merely dusky a perceived scant minute ago.

Jannik got up and stretched languidly. His body was still aching all over, but not as badly as it had this morning. He healed a lot faster than a human, still it would take him a few days until his body was back to normal and if some wounds were too severe he would scar just like a human.

"And what do we have here."

The man's voice caught him off guard.

Jannik jumped and turned around to face the speaker. About a foot away stood a blond, bearded man. He was dressed elegantly and was good looking in a heavy-handed way. Something was familiar about the man, but Jannik couldn't place him straightaway.

"I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to be on the streets tonight, valo," the man said with feigned surprise.

With a sinking feeling, Jannik realized where he'd seen the face before. The man had to be Pritchard, Pete's brother. There was a strong family resemblance between the two men. Pritchard seemed to be more affluent, but the hard, dead eyes and eerie demeanor were the same as his brother's. Jannik knew he was in serious trouble.

"I wouldn't run if I were you little Jannik," Pritchard threatened with a cold voice.

He looked past Jannik's left shoulder and Jannik anxiously turned his head. Another man, this one scroungier looking, stood next to the crate Jannik had sat on.

Pritchard had called him 'Jannik' so he obviously knew who he was. Gavin, the slimy back-stabber, had snitched on him after all. Pritchard seemed to read his thoughts.

"Everybody has a price and if your life's at stake, you're willing to sell very cheap," he taunted.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your brother," Jannik desperately lied. "But I didn't do anything. It was the other valo who killed him. I just happened to be there."

Jannik felt a twinge of guilt. He was no better than Gavin, but he didn't want to die and if he laid the blame on Tibor, he might get away with simply a beating. Besides Tibor seemed to be a skilled swordsman and evidently could look after himself.

"We'll take care of your valo friend later. Right now, it's just the two of us and we got all night to get to know each other. Yes, we'll get to know each other real good."

Jannik bolted, but didn't get very far. Pritchard and the other man held him effortlessly between them. Jannik was still too weakened by last night's ordeal and lack of food and was no match for the two men. They dragged the struggling boy to a nearby waiting closed carriage and roughly shoved him inside on the floor. Before Jannik found his bearings, they'd followed him inside, pushed him on the seat and sat down on either side of him. They kept him immobile in his seat as they clutched an arm each and held it in a bruising grip. Jannik was paralyzed with fear. He knew he stood no real chance of surviving this night. He could only hope there wouldn’t be too much pain involved, but a look into Pritchard's dead eyes told him that this would be a futile wish.


	3. Chapter 3

Tibor dismounted his horse and tied the reins on the bridle holder in front of the large town house. He climbed up the stairs to the entrance of Lord Devensfort's home. It was an impressive three-story building entirely built out of the brownstone that had become so popular over the last years. A liveried servant opened the huge elaborately carved wooden door. He beckoned Tibor inside and took his leather overcoat.

"His Lordship is awaiting you in the study. If you would be so kind and follow me, Milord."

The servant led Tibor past the high ceilinged hall with a large staircase at one end. They didn't get up the stairs though, but entered through a smaller door just to the left of the staircase. Lord Devensfort's study was surprisingly small and sparsely furnished. Under a large window stood a solid looking bureau, a chair with a high backrest in front of it. A sofa and a few chairs stood in a circle near the fireplace and a low dresser was tucked in one corner. The wall opposite to the window was completely hidden by a huge wall-to-wall bookshelf, well stocked with hundreds of leather bound tomes. Tibor suddenly felt homesick. His father Andru had a similar looking study and the incomparable smell of leather, teak and dust brought home fond childhood memories. Tibor hadn't seen his family in nearly a year and he supposed he was entitled to a bit of nostalgia. Lord Devensfort got up from his seat by the desk and held out his hands.

"My dear boy, it is so good to see you again."

He was a tall man. With his six foot two inches, he was the same height as Tibor, but where Tibor was solid muscle, Lord Devensfort was solid flab. He had always been on the pudgy side, but since Tibor had last seen him three years ago, he'd gained even more weight. Tibor knew it wasn't only the fact that his lordship's only form of exercise was the occasional stroll through his rose garden; he also had a wickedly sweet tooth and indulged in his passion for Kasidian chocolate far too often.

"Don’t look at me so skeptical boy. I know, I haven't gotten any slimmer, but gardening isn't exactly a sweat inducing activity and I'm not getting any younger.“

Lord Devensfort embraced the young valo.

Tibor just smiled. "It's good to see you again uncle. I'm quite impressed with your new home."

Lord Devensfort wasn't really his uncle, but he'd been a close friend to the D'a Ventilos, long before Tibor had been born 24 years ago. Tibor was acquainted with the old family rumor that his father Detor and Lord Gumfrey Devensfort had been more than just good friends and Detor had tried to get Devensfort to move to Southland with him, but for some reason, unknown to the D'a Ventilo children, Devensfort reclined and when Detor met his life-bond Andru and later their vajudik Melana it wasn't an issue anymore. However the human and the valo remained friends and the families had seen each other on a few occasions over the years.

The Devensforts were landed gentry and lived in a comfortable mansion about a two days ride east of the royal city of Shevlon. Tibor knew that they had purchased this town house a few years ago, but seldom used it. Tibor was surprised when he had learned the Devensforts were going to live here permanently, for his uncle wasn't really a city person with his love for the countryside and his penchant for gardening.

But much to Lord Devensfort's chagrin. Lady Devensfort pressed for the family to live in their town house as of this winter to further the education of their three daughters aged 14, 15, and 22..

"I don't want my girls to grow up as country pumpkins," she'd insisted. "They have to learn to act like the ladies they are. They are related to the King after all and might get called to Court."

Lady Devensfort was a first cousin once removed to the king's stepfather, and she'd always taken pride in her relationship to the royal family. She had grown up at court and had suffered the reclusiveness of their country manor over the last twenty-three years, so Lord Devensfort supposed it was his turn now to reciprocate. Grudgingly, he had agreed to them moving to Shevlon. It was going to be an insufferable time of banquets, balls, and soirees, but his wife was right, they needed to find a suitable husband for their eldest daughter Hendraa, who was turning 23 in the next month. Hendraa currently had a suitor and although the young man was a baronet's son, his family was poor and Lady Devensfort suspected his continued interest in Hendraa solely to derive from the generous dowry Hendraa was going to receive once she married.

Lord Devensfort led his young guest to the chairs in front of the fireplace and offered him a glass of port.

"We only moved here two days ago," he informed Tibor. "Now that we're settled in you are most welcome to stay with us."

"I'm merely staying another night in Shevlon and then I'll travel to the kingdom of Terndurque," Tibor gently declined his uncle's offer.

"So business has been good then?"

"Not, really. The further north I get, the less inclined the merchants are to deal with non-humans. Good business partners suddenly don't want to meet with me anymore and some even disregard our previously signed contracts."

Lord Devensfort sighted. "Yes, contacts between humans and non-humans have become quite strained in the Northlands. It hasn't been too bad here in Shevlon, but that is changing as well. It's the King's new group of advisors, and their affiliation to a sect called the Khrestens"

To a large part the predominantly human population of the seven kingdoms of the Northlands worshipped the six gods of the Church of Vyfe. The deities were rather lenient of their worshipers, mainly expecting them to prosper and be honorable. That included respect towards all forms of life. However there were other denominations, as well, some more prominent than others. Over the last decades the more intolerant, anti-preternatural cults had gathered a continually growing following. Especially the increasingly popular sect of the Khrestens.

They claimed before the so called Third War, which took place four hundred years before the Dark War, there were no preternaturals on Earth or rather they lived in a parallel world. The magical forces used in the Third War were so powerful they unhinged Earth out of its orbit and thus enabled non-humans to emerge from their parallel existence. The more liberal Khresten scholars debated as to whether preternaturals entered human realm or vice versa. Nevertheless, most Khrestens believed the only salvation for the inferior non-humans was to submit themselves to Earth’s righteous owners, the humans.

"This sect is getting more intolerant by the day and they believe in the total supremacy of humans," Lord Devensfort continued.  
"All non-humans should be wiped off the face of the Earth and if that feat is accomplished, Preelton the Father of Gods will descend to Earth and reward his followers handsomely. Their beliefs have become quite popular among Court and the good people of Yallellow. They blame non-humans for everything from poor crop to barren women."

“Why do humans have to be so narrow-minded,” Tibor deplored. “Don’t they want to live in peace?”

But he realized the preternaturals were no better, because similar sects had sprung up in the Southland's kingdoms as well, where the preternaturals, naturally deemed themselves to be the superior ones. And Tibor had to admit that a lot of preternatural races were faster, stronger and harder to kill than humans. The humans' strength was in their sheer numbers though, and if there ever was going to be another war between the preternaturals and humans it would be anybody's guess as to who would win.

“It’s got nothing to do with being human or not. It’s all about power, acceptance of advantages and enrichment of a select few, but that has always been the case with politics,” Lord Devensfort said saliently.

“Enough with politics,” Tibor abruptly changed the subject. “What do you know of the paly race?”

Tibor knew that his uncle didn’t possess all those books just for show. He was astoundingly literate and was able say something knowledgeable about most subjects.

“Paly, hm, I only know that they’ve become extinct in the Dark War, but I don’t know why or how,” Lord Devensfort mused. “You know, there're hardly any written records pertaining the Dark War. Most of them have been destroyed in the chaotic years after the war. The few chronicles left are so incomprehensible even the wisest of scholars haven’t been able to make any sense of them. The only thing I know is that palys were created by the Felidae Gods same as valos, but they originate from the Goddess Felis, not the God Onca as valos do. Why your sudden interest in them?”

Tibor told his uncle of his encounter with the paly boy the previous night. When he mentioned the glass stone, the boy somehow seemed to treasure, his uncle suddenly perked up.

“There is something about palys and a glass stone. I don’t know where I heard of it nor if I read it somewhere, but there is a saga of a translucent stone that has some significance to them. But I always thought the stone was just referred to in a symbolical meaning, not that it was an actual stone. I will try to see if I can find out more about it.”

The door to the study opened and a tall, good-looking woman entered. Lady Suzanna Devensfort was curvaceous without being fat, but her most stunning feature were her cornflower blue eyes. She was in her late forties having married late but she had aged with grace. Tibor was as always amazed how such a bland looking, fairly ugly man as his uncle had managed to entice such a beautiful woman such as Lady Devensfort in the first place. Tibor knew that among aristocracy marriages of convenience were the rule rather than the exception, yet theirs wasn't an arranged marriage and whenever he saw them together, it became obvious how fond they were of each other

Like her husband, Lady Devensfort greeted Tibor warmly. “Tibor, it is a pleasure to see you again, but Gumfrey is hiding you in this stuffy study of his. Please come into the parlor. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Obediently both men got up and followed Lady Devensfort into the great entrance hall and up the large staircase where they entered an elegantly furnished sitting room. Whereas Lord Devensfort’s study attested to the masculinity of its owner, this room was clearly the women's sphere. The prevalent colors of the room furnishings were light blue, mauve and pastel green and the furniture was rather dainty and fragile looking. Three giggling girls sat on a rosewood sofa that was covered in light blue chintz. They lapsed into silence when Tibor and Lord Devensfort entered.

Lady Devensfort guided Tibor towards the sofa. "You haven't seen each other in a long time so let me reacquaint you. Girls welcome Tibor D'a Ventilo like the sensible young ladies I know you are. Tibor, these are my daughters Deboraa, Lyasana, and my oldest Hendraa.”

The girls stood up and curtsied shyly. Whereas the two younger girls were blessed with the good looks of their mother, the oldest one had the misfortune to be the spitting image of her father sans the paunch, although she was quite a bit overweight. She had a non-descript face with an already acrid line around her mouth

Tibor bowed slightly before each girl and they subsequently started giggling again. He feared that it was going to be a long evening trying to entertain two pubescent girls and their sullen older sister. Fortunately, the Devensforts knew enough about valos to refrain from matching him with one of the girls. Tibor was aware of his appeal to women and he used it to his advantage on occasion. But valos very rarely got intimate with females and therefore like a true valo, women were of little interest to him. He preferred his partners to be small and trim, but most definitely male. Like the nameless paly boy, now he was temptation in one hot little package.

Suddenly the door opened again and a liveried servant announced the arrival of another guest. Whereas Lord Devensfort looked pleased with himself, his wife seemed slightly annoyed. A young man of Tibor’s age entered the parlor. Wow, Tibor thought on impulse. Although the young man wasn’t exactly his preferred type, he was most certainly a stunner. Sleek auburn hair, tied in a ponytail, a good posture and even aristocratic features. He was elegantly dressed in the latest fashion, without being flashy. At six foot, he was almost the same height as Tibor, but not quite as brawny. Out of the corner of his eyes, Tibor observed Hendraa’s face lighting up, so she obviously knew the newcomer. The young man politely bowed towards Tibor and the family while Lord Devensfort made the introduction.

“Sir Aiden of Oakshyre. His father is the seventh Baronet of Oakshyre. Tibor D’a Ventilo, Lord D’a Ventilo’s youngest son, a very dear family friend.”

Tibor bowed slightly. “Sir Aiden.”

“Please, call me Aiden.”

Tibor was surprised. Northerners were usually not so informal on a first encounter and loved to impress with their titles and exaggerated aloofness which they considered to be good manners.

The servant entered the parlor again and announced that dinner was ready. While the family and their guests went into the dining room, Lord Devensfort held Tibor back and whispered into his ear.

“Sir Aiden is courting our Hendraa. She’s quite enamored with him but I’m not so sure about his motives. Please tell me what you think of him, later.”

"I'll keep an eye on him."

Tibor followed the others as they settled around the large rectangular table. Hendraa was clearly completely taken in by Sir Aiden. All through dinner she made sheep’s eyes at him and turned bright red every time he said something to her. Tibor had to admit that the young baronet was a talented entertainer, he was charming and quick-witted. Even Lady Devensfort, who evidently distrusted Aiden, unbent considerably. Aiden was subtly flirting with everybody, including Lord Devensfort and Tibor. Tibor quite enjoyed the light-hearted banter and the evening was much more enjoyable than he had anticipated.

After dinner was over Lady Devensfort and her daughters retired, while the three men went into Lord Devensfort’s study. Tibor and Aiden sat on the sofa, with their host sat opposite. They had more wine and chitchatted idly about nothing of importance. Lord Devensfort responded less and less until both young men heard unmistakable snoring coming from their host.

Aiden snickered. “We're obviously not as entertaining as we think we are. We've bored our host to death or at least to peaceful sleep.”

He inched closer to Tibor until their thighs touched and lightly put his right arm around Tibor’s shoulders. He leaned even closer and murmured seductively into Tibor’s ear. “But I’m sure we can pass the time somehow.”

Tibor was nonplussed by that blatant invitation. “I thought you and Hendraa …?” he hesitated.

“The honest truth Tibor? Hendraa is an ugly, fat cow with a pea-sized brain. Her mother’s right to mistrust me. But I'm a modest soul and if the prize is right, I might marry the girl. But I’m not married, yet and you’re too damn hot to pass up.”

Somehow, Tibor had to admire Aiden’s refreshing frankness and had to admit to himself that he wouldn’t mind a little tousle in the sheets with the attractive baronet. Hendraa had her parents to look out for her. In the morning he would tell Lord Devensfort what he learned from Aiden, of course, but that was then and this was now.

“Do you think it is a good idea to be so open, Aiden? I’m a good friend of the family and I care about what’s happening to Hendraa," Tibor enquired regardless.

Aiden smiled nonchalantly. “Do you now. I've invested time and effort into this, but there are countless more desperate, aging heiresses around, so I could move on."

“You’re a heartless soul and very naughty boy,” Tibor teased.

Aiden tightened his embrace of Tibor and put his left hand on Tibor’s crotch where he lightly started to caress the growing erection hidden there by the woolen trousers.

“Hm, I’d say you’re an even naughtier one, Tibor.”

Then Aiden bent forward to give Tibor an open-mouthed kiss. Tibor responded by opening his lips as well and delving his tongue deep into Aiden’s hungry mouth. It was such an illicit thrill to make out right in front of their slumbering host. Still locked in a tight embrace and kissing him passionately Aiden fumbled the buttons of Tibor’s trousers open and wormed his hand into Tibor’s linen underpants. He deftly encircled Tibor’s dick with sure fingers and started working him with titillating up and down strokes. Tibor made a conscious effort not to moan out lout however he couldn’t stop a few whimpers from escaping. Tibor pulled Aiden forward a bit so he could put both of his hands on Aiden’s side and then he moved them down to knead those enticing ass-cheeks covered by plush corduroy trousers. Encouraged by Tibor steadily leaking pre-cum Aiden increased the speed of his strokes and with a muffled moan, Tibor came all over Aiden’s hand. Both men loosened their tight embrace and grinned at each other. Tibor refastened his trousers all the while pointedly looking at Aiden’s crotch where the visible outline of Aiden’s erection could be seen and a small wet patch had appeared on his trousers.

“We should take this somewhere else, don’t you think?” Tibor smiled.

“Let’s head back to my house.” Aiden leaned forward for another tongue dueling kiss.

The loud shattering of glass interrupted the men. Hendraa stood in the door, clad in a full-length nightgown and holding a small tray in her shaking hands. On the floor in front of her were the remains of what had been a tall tumbler filled with hot milk. Both men parted as if struck by lightning.

Hendraa had wanted to bring her father his customary night-cup of cinnamon flavored hot milk and when she heard no sound coming from the study she'd assumed his guests had already left and quietly opened the door in case her father had fallen asleep on the sofa as he was wont to do. She was not prepared for the sight that awaited her. Aiden lying half-on top of Tibor and both men locked in a tight embrace their mouths glued together. Hendraa had grown up very sheltered, but she wasn’t that innocent. She could tell what the young men were doing was way beyond a friendly kiss.

Along with the tumbler, her world shattered into pieces. Hendraa had resigned herself to the fact that she wasn’t as beautiful as her sisters, but she’d hoped Aiden sought her out, because he enjoyed her company and because of their common interests in gardening and taking long leisurely walks through the countryside. Her own father was rather unattractive, yet her mother loved him dearly, so Hendraa had hoped she could have something like that with Aiden. A companionship that was based on mutual respect and understanding and not on the shallowness of coquetry and prettiness. Yet her mother as usual had been right, calling Aiden a ‘fortune hunter’ and a ‘charming, but no good scoundrel’ who just pretended to be interested in Hendraa, but only wanted her dowry.

“What … what are you doing?” Hendraa barely got the strength to ask.

At that moment Lord Devensfort awoke from all the commotion and looked groggily from his daughter standing by the door with utter despair in her face and two guilty looking young men on the sofa. Hendraa ran towards her father and immediately started crying. Aiden and Tibor recovered from their shock and quickly got up. Aiden turned to Lord Devensfort.

“Your daughter will undoubtedly tell you everything. I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other in the near future, but let me assure you that I’ll always fondly remember your kind hospitality,” he said smoothly.

Then he took Tibor’s arm and dragged the still somewhat stunned young valo after him. Tibor felt dreadful. He’d always admired and respected his uncle Gumfrey and he’d never wanted to cause him any pain and he knew he'd hurt Hendraa beyond believe. As they retrieved their overcoats from a servant standing by the door and stepped outside, Aiden playfully poked Tibor in the side.

“Hey, come on. Stop looking like a picture of misery. You can blame it all on me, the mean, bad, money-grubber, who seduced you. You’ll be back in their good books in no time. Now let’s go back to my place and finish what we started.” Aiden took Tibor’s hand and put it over his still half erect cock. “Leaving me like that, now that would be really mean."

Tibor still felt guilty, but Aiden was right. Things couldn’t get any worse, could they, and why not finish what they’d started. Aiden was hot as anything and they might have a lot of fun together. Tibor took his horse which had been brought over by a servant.

“No need to mount your horse. I live just at the end of this street”, Aiden explained and pointed down the street ahead of them.

“Aiden! Aiden, please wait. Don’t leave me like that.”

The young men had just crossed the street and turned around in unison. Hendraa stood at the top of the stairs. She was still only dressed in her nightgown and looked at them with an inscrutable expression. Then she was rushing down the steps towards them and lifted up her right arm high over her head. Tibor saw the blade of a small knife glinting in the moonlight.


	4. Chapter 4

Hendraa stepped onto the street at the same time as a closed carriage turned around the corner. It sped along heading straight for Hendraa who stood motionless in the middle of the street, her gaze firmly locked on Aiden. She was so focused on him, that she didn’t seem to be aware of the danger as she made no effort to get out of the way. The coachman had no chance to react as the carriage careened out of control. It all happened so fast, Tibor wasn’t even sure he’d truly seen it, not until the carriage came to a halt exactly on the spot where Hendraa had stood a moment ago.

Tibor and Aiden looked at each other in shock then ran over to the turmoil of the crash site. The coachman had been hurled out of his box-seat and was lying on the ground next to the horses. He cried out his anguish in shrill high-pitched screams. The injured horses nickered fearfully and tried to pull of their tangled harnesses. The carriage leaned dangerously to one side, one of its wheels broken in half. All Tibor could see of Hendraa were her legs sticking out from under it. The carriage’s passengers frantically shouted and banged on the walls, because the tilt of the carriage had jammed the door. Despite the carriage's precariously shaking Tibor didn’t hesitate and crawled under it. When he reached Hendraa he felt for her pulse, although he was certain that she was dead, because her head was contorted in an odd-looking angle with her skull partly smashed in. He surmised she'd probably been dead the minute the carriage had hit her and broke her neck. Tabor didn’t bother to search for the knife Hendraa had held in her hand, they would never learn if she truly intended to hurt Aiden with it, but then it didn't matter anymore. He pulled her out from under the carriage and carried her to the sidewalk where he laid her down carefully. He could see Aiden hectically trying to open on the carriage door.

All at once the quiet residential street had become a hubbub of activity with people rushing out of their houses, shouting, aimlessly running around, wildly gesticulating and generally being more of a hindrance than a help.

Aiden finally managed to unlock the door and the two passengers trapped inside stumbled out. A bit ruffled up, but none the worse for wear. They were an odd-looking pair: One looked like a cutthroat whereas the other appeared to be of a more noble rank.

The nobleman glared at his surroundings until his eyes settled on Aiden.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You broke my carriage. You'll pay for this.”

“I was only helping you.” Aiden gave the man a contemptuous look. “And I think it is you who should worry. Your carriage ran over a young woman.”

“Stupid wench. Shouldn’t have been out at this time of night.”

Tibor was furious at the off-handed dismissive way in which the man spoke of Hendraa and moved without thinking. The man staggered back. With a disbelieving expression he lifted his hand to his bloodied nose. With one well-aimed punch, Tibor had almost broken it. Leaving the stunned man rooted to the spot he walked over to his uncle, who had run out of the house and now knelt on the floor cradling Hendraa’s head in his lap. He looked up at Tibor with a shell-shocked expression.

“Tibor, what happened?”

Tibor was at a loss for words feeling too guilt-ridden. He knew he was to blame for Hendraa's actions to a certain degree and he would have to live with the verity of it. For if he hadn't fooled around with Aiden she would've been most likely in bed right now dreaming sweet dreams of wedding bliss. Admittedly he'd never expected timid Hendraa to turn into a knife-wielding avenger, but that just revealed how deeply she'd been hurt by his careless actions.

“Hendraa suddenly stepped on the street and didn’t see the carriage coming, uncle. Mind you, the carriage was much too fast. It'll be a small consolation, but she must’ve died instantly. I’m sure she felt no pain at all,” Tibor tried to comfort his uncle and himself.

Lord Devensfort shook his head in disbelieve and started sobbing.

“Why was she outside at all? Did she try to talk to that no-good Aiden?”

Tibor was spared from replying because in precisely that moment the broken wheel of the carriage collapsed and with a loud crash, the carriage fell on its side. An ear-splitting shriek came from inside the carriage.

Aiden turned to the injured man. “You stupid jerk, why didn’t you tell us that there’s still somebody inside.”

“Cos it’s none of your business,” the man spat.

The carriage had only one door and unfortunately, it was on the side the coach had fallen onto. The city guards had arrived by now; a troop of four strong men. They heaved the carriage with barely any effort until it was upright enough to open the door. A small, scruffy looking, figure crawled out of the carriage. The boy cradled his left arm in his right hand and looked around with big startled eyes, his face contorted with pain.

Tibor instantly recognized the boy as the paly who had run out on him only this morning. The widening of the boy’s eyes told Tibor he’d recognized him as well.

“Are you hurt?” Tibor asked gently as he went over to the boy.

“Yes, my arm, I think it’s broken,” the boy whispered.

The nobleman walked up to the paly boy and grabbed him by his injured arm and pulled him to the side. “And I will take care of that.”

The boy squealed in pain.

“Is this a friend of yours?” Tibor asked the boy.

The paly threw a hurried glance at the man then at Tibor. He hesitantly nodded, but Tibor was positive that it was a lie.

“Who are you anyway?” Tibor asked.

He’d addressed the boy, but it was the man who answered.

“I’m Pritchard Morrissen.”

The tone of the man's voice implied that Tibor should know who he was. But the name was unfamiliar to him. Quizzically he looked at the boy.

“I’m Jannik,” the boy volunteered shyly.

“And that’s of no interest to anybody. Anyway he’s my nephew,” Morrissen said.

His nephew, my ass, Tibor thought. He had no idea as to what was going on between these two, but had an uneasy feeling about it and he had learned to trust his premonitions. Somehow, he knew it was best to get the boy away from Morrissen as soon as possible.

“I’m a healer and I will look at his arm. I’ve got my bag over there,” Tibor told the dumbfounded Morrissen.

Healers weren’t exactly renowned for their violent tendencies and Tibor had nearly broken the man’s nose. But before Morrissen could respond Tibor locked eyes with Jannik and willed him to go along with his story. The boy nodded slightly and followed Tibor to the side of the street where Aiden stood and talked to one of the guardsmen. Another one of the guard's men walked up to Morrissen.

The commander of the small troop of city guards had called in reinforcements and the men had managed to bring some order into the ruckus and made most of the people return to their houses. A healer was kneeling next to the injured coachman, while two men tended to the horses. Tibor was sure the injured horses would have to be taken to the knacker’s.

“Jannik,” Tibor asked, “do you want to go with that man Morrissen? Is he really your uncle? “

Jannik shook his head. “No, he’s Pete’s brother. The man you … last night…” Jannik’s voice faltered.

Aiden looked questioningly at the boy and Tibor, but Tibor didn’t elaborate. He was busy listening in on the conversation between the guardsman and Morrissen instead. The tumult had died down considerably with most people gone and Morrissen made no effort to keep his voice down, so it was easy for Tibor with his valo hearing to follow their conversation. Morrissen stuck to his tale and told the guard that the boy was his nephew and they were on their way home, where of course he would have somebody look at the boy’s broken arm. Tibor very much doubted it. Jannik stood stock-still and focused panicky on Morrissen. Tibor was certain the paly could hear the men’s conversation as well. Morrissen was offering the guard a handsome sum of money, if he would organize a new carriage for them. Tibor knew he had to get Jannik away from Morrissen rather now than later.

He turned to Aiden. “I need to get the boy out of here."

Aiden nodded. “Go to my house at the end of the street. It has a bright blue door, it’s hard to miss. Here's the key. Wait for me there.”

Tibor was surprised Aiden trusted him enough to give him the keys to his house, but then Aiden grinned mischievously. “I know your uncle, so don’t nick my silver.”

Tibor motioned to Jannik to follow him. The boy caught on immediately and they slowly walked down the street. Tibor wanted to get away as fast as possible, but he was afraid they would attract attention if they were to run. However nobody took notice of them when they unhurriedly strolled down the street and they arrived at Aiden’s town house unimpeded.

The house was smaller than the Devensforts' being two-storied instead of three, but it certainly was not a peasant shack. Tibor unlocked the bright blue wooden door and they entered. Aiden didn’t seem to have any live-in staff, because nobody came to welcome them. They walked through the entrance hall into what had to be the reception room. The room was crammed with furniture and seemed to be a bit overstuffed, but the fireplace was lit and it was comfortably warm. Tibor and Jannik sat down on a stiff looking sofa in one corner. Jannik looked around miserably and his small body shook violently as finally the shock set in. Tibor put an arm around the boy’s shoulders and held him in a light non-threatening embrace.

“Shh, Jannik. It will be alright,” Tibor soothed the boy. “When Aiden gets here we’ll call for a healer who’ll look at your arm.”

Jannik seemed to settle down a little and his violent trembling receded to the occasional shiver. Tibor was desperate for a drink to calm his nerves, but when he made an attempt to get up Jannik looked up at him with pleading scared eyes, so Tibor stayed seated where he was. He wanted to ask the boy a million questions, but didn’t want to frighten the frail creature off and they sat in silence with Jannik leaning more and more into Tibor’s embrace slowly relaxing. Both jerked when they heard a loud knock.

“That must be Aiden.” Tibor reluctantly let go of Jannik. “I have to open the door for him.”

Aiden strode past Tibor into the reception room.

“All hell broke loose when that Morrissen guy realized you were gone, Thank the Gods, he didn’t make the connection between Lord Devensfort, me and you. So he hasn’t got a clue as to where you two are at the moment. I asked the healer who was there to come over and he should be here soon.”

As if on cue, there was a knock on the front door and Aiden let in the healer. He wore the uniform of the city guards and was still fairly young. He poked and prodded on Jannik’s arm and finally announced that the forearm was sprained but not broken. He wrapped the arm in a tight bandage. Next he wanted to look at Jannik’s other wounds, but the boy kept insisting that he was alright and it was nothing. In the end the healer capitulated. He turned to Tibor and Aiden.

“Put some food into him and let him rest. He’s malnourished and he needs all the strength he can get to heal properly. There're no lice, but a good scrub would be advisable, as well.”

Departing he held out his hand to collect his fee and Tibor paid him. After Aiden had escorted the healer to the door, he returned to Tibor and Jannik.

“You heard what the man said,” he told Jannik. “Bath, food, and bed. In that order.”

Both men had to smile at Jannik’s horrified expression at the mentioning of a bath. Aiden lead Tibor and Jannik upstairs and showed them to a bathroom.

“You'll find everything you need in here”, Aiden indicated at the small cupboard above the vanity. “In the meantime I’ll get something to eat for us.”

The bathroom was elegantly outfitted with marble tiles and oak-paneled furniture. It had one of those modern appliances where one could get hot and cold water by just turning a small knob attached to a pipe that came out of a wall over the large copper bathtub. Tibor was duly impressed. Only the very rich could afford running hot water. Jannik sat on a chair while Tibor filled the tub with warm water. Once it was filled with enough water for the boy to actually swim in it, Tibor added an exotic smelling liquid soap from a small vial he’d found in the cupboard. The bar of soap lying next to vial smelled equally exotic. Tibor studied Jannik. The boy looked like he was going to be led to his own execution.

Tibor ogled the paly with barely concealed amusement.

“Jannik, have you ever taken a bath?”

The boy shook his head vigorously.

“Let me assure you it’s not dangerous. You might like it.”

Tibor checked the water’s temperature for the last time.

”Do you want me to leave?”

"No, please stay."

Jannik took off his shirt and trousers. With an indignant huff and bristling tail he gingerly put one delicate foot into the water. He winced at the warm water as it came into contact with his wounds, but then he settled all the way into the bathtub holding up his bandaged arm.

“May I?” Tibor held up the washcloth and Jannik nodded his consent.

Tibor carefully washed the boy’s back and shoulders all the while trying not to get affected by the enticing body sitting so close to him. He handed the soap to Jannik so the boy could wash his front and lower regions on his own.

Jannik held the soap up to his nose and sniffed on it.

“This smells really nice and the water is so warm and smooth.”

“I told you, you’d like it.”

After that came the challenge of washing Jannik’s waist length, extremely filthy mane. Tibor poured an endless amount of warm water over the paly's head and washed his hair. When the hair and the rest of Jannik had the semblance of cleanliness and the water had turned a murky brown color, Jannik got out of the bathtub smelling deliciously exotic. Much to Tibor's surprise Jannik's ears weren't white after all, they were a light auburn. His 35 inch tail was pure white though.

Jannik wrapped himself in one of the towels provided and made a face at his clothes lying on the chair. He was obviously not looking forward to putting the sweaty garments back on. In that moment Aiden strolled into the bathroom holding up a pair of trousers, some undergarment and a shirt. With a relieved look Jannik took them and put them on. Tibor couldn’t believe his eyes. He could only guess at the previous owner’s intention when wearing these clothes, but on Jannik, they were pure seduction. The burgundy silk shirt was long-sleeved and high-necked, but skin-tight. The low-slung cotton trousers were equally tight and surprisingly they had a hole for Jannik's tail as if they'd been worn by a catboy before. Aiden winked at Tibor and walked out again. Jannik seemed to be happy with the clothes though and smiled broadly at Tibor.

They followed Aiden downstairs into the kitchen where he had prepared a simple meal of cold meats, thickly sliced wholemeal bread, fresh apples and butter. He filled a mug with hot ginger tea for the boy and a glass of an alcoholic smelling liquid for Tibor, which Tibor gratefully accepted as he really could do with a drink.

When they all had settled, Aiden looked expectantly at Tibor and Jannik.

“Alright, I’ve been patient enough. Now I’m dying to know all of the sordid details.”

Tibor told Aiden what had happened the night before. Once he’d finished both men looked expectantly at Jannik to tell his part of the story, but the boy ignored their questioning looks and continued eating.

Aiden let him get away with it for the time being.

“We’ll talk some more in the morning.”

He addressed Tibor. “I've put your horse in the stable next to mine.”

Now Tibor had a few questions of his own.

“How can you afford to live in posh place like this? This is surely not how I’d imagine a poor marriage impostor to live.”

“I inherited this house from my aunt, furniture and all. I was her favorite nephew or rather her only one. And as I’d told you before, there are a lot of fair maidens, just desperate to be wed before they become old spinsters of 22.”

“You’ve been married?” Tibor asked incredulously.

Aiden laughed. “Gods, no. But some parents are willing to pay quite handsomely for me to court their daughter, while others pay equally well for me not to court their daughter anymore. I’ve got a bit of a reputation you know.”

Jannik snickered and then tried to stifle a yawn.

“Alright, time for bed,” Tibor ordered.

Aiden got up.

“Do you want to share, or have separate rooms?” he asked, his face deceptively neutral.

Jannik turned bright red and looked helplessly at Tibor. Tibor hoped that he made the right decision, but he had the sentience that after all that had happened to the boy he might prefer some company, if only to stave off any nightmares.

“We’ll share,” he said.

It had been the right thing to say as he noticed Jannik's grateful look.

Aiden showed them to a room opposite the bathroom. It was a bit musty and the air was stale as if it had not been lived in for quite a while. Aiden stoked up a fire and wishing them a good night, he left Tibor and Jannik to their own devices.

Jannik had climbed onto the large bed and sat atop the sheets. Tibor settled down next to him. Tibor had come to the conclusion that the boy was very quiet and shy. He didn't know if it was the boy's natural disposition or if the events of the last 24 hours had been too overwhelming. Anyway he wanted to try to get the pretty paly to relax.

"Do you want me to brush your hair for you?" Tibor therefore asked.

Valos loved to have their hair brushed and fondled. It might be the same for palys. Jannik nodded and Tibor got a comb from the dresser and started the arduous task of combing the tangled, still damp tresses. After some vigorous pulling, the casualties of a few strands and the occasional hiss of pain from Jannik Tibor had completed his task. Jannik's hair had thoroughly dried during the process and Tibor noticed that it was quite curly and the color of dark wood-honey.

"Do you want me to braid it?" Tibor asked and again got no verbal answer apart from a nod.

Tibor was halfway through braiding the glossy locks when he realized what he was doing. Only bonded valos braided each other's hair. He was baffled by his own actions, but Jannik didn't seem to mind and he was no valo after all, so he wouldn't read anything into it.  
Again they sat in companionable silence while Tibor tended to Jannik's hair.

When Tibor had finished, Jannik suddenly stood up, peeled of his tight silken shirt and shimmied out of his trousers. He tentatively took Tibor’s left hand and put it on his flat naked belly. Inquisitively Tibor looked into Jannik’s jade green eyes.

“You don’t have to do that. You’re under no obligation whatsoever,” Tibor said.

“I want to. You’re the first man in a long time that’s been nice to me. I want to make you feel good.”

Jannik sat back down on the bed and gazed up at Tibor from under long eyelashes and smiled shyly. That mixture of diffident seduction and sluttyness went straight to Tibor's groin. He wanted the little paly. Desperately. When Jannik wrapped his uninjured arm around Tibor’s neck and let himself fall backwards on the bed pulling Tibor on top of him Tibor followed him down more than willingly and finally they shared their first heated kiss. It was every bit as good as Tibor thought it would be. His tongue delved into Jannik's sweet mouth to do all the exploring he wanted. Although Jannik seemed surprisingly inexperienced when it came to kissing it felt so good to Tibor; so right. Tibor was lying on top of Jannik's naked body and they kept devouring each other's mouth. Reluctantly Tibor let go of Jannik's delicious mouth. He had to do the decent thing.

"Jannik, how old are you?"

Jannik opened his eyes and regarded Tibor thoughtfully.

"How old do you want me to be?"

"Oh no, dollface. None of those games. I want to know your real age."

Jannik nodded. "I'm fourteen or fifteen. I don't know for sure. So I'm old enough."

Tibor knew the statement to be true. The age for marriage in the Northlands was twelve for girls and fifteen for boys. So Jannik was old enough for what they were doing. Still he was a lot younger than Tibor's usual hook-ups. Yet kissing him felt so good and he was so stunningly sexy. Tibor gave his ueber scruples a mental slap on the head and dove down to kiss Jannik again. He felt the naked boy's erection rubbing against his woolen trousers. Still kissing him Tibor rolled over so they were lying side by side on the bed.   
Tibor took in the most erotic sight he’d seen in a long time. He had to marvel at Jannik’s petite and lissome body. The boy might be bruised and underfed, but he sure looked sexy with it. He trailed butterfly kisses all over Jannik’s face and down his neck. Then he kissed and licked his way slowly down along Jannik's shoulders to the boy’s chest. Tibor feasted on each tiny nipple, alternately licking and sucking on them until they became hard pebbles. Jannik’s green cat eyes were on half-mast and dark with lust.

"It's so good, Tibor. Don't stop."

Jannik moaned deeply. Tibor was proud of his display of self-restraint. Jannik's moans and soft little gasps every time he sucked on his nipples were such a turn on and how he longed to flip Jannik on his stomach and just pound him into the mattress. But Jannik had been through a lot and if he coerced him to do anything, the boy might not be ready for, he would be no better than those brutes that had used him. Tibor wanted this to be good for Jannik, so he would come back for more.

Tibor kissed, and licked every inch of Jannik's upper body and worked his way down to his intrinsic target. Jannik's erect and throbbing cock. Jannik was already heavily leaking pre-cum and subconsciously spread his legs to give Tibor better access. Tibor crawled further down on the mattress and comfortably settled between Jannik's spread thighs and went to town. He slowly licked the underside of Jannik’s cock and then enthusiastically swirled his tongue over and around the slit. Again and again. Tibor spread Jannik's legs even further apart. Now he could gently fondle Jannik's balls while he took the head of the boy's cock into his mouth. Jannik wasn't overly long, but he was quite well endowed for a boy his age, nice and thick, perfect for sucking him. Jannik jerked his hips and tried to get more of himself into the welcoming heat of Tibor’s mouth.

"Tibor, that's soooo good."

Jannik small hand was clenched into Tibor's hair and held on with an almost painful grip.

Tibor got all of Jannik into his mouth. He deep throated the boy and was rewarded with the most erotic mewling he'd ever heard. The tightening of Jannik's balls told Tibor that he was going to come any second now. Tibor didn't pull back, he wanted to taste his hot little kitten, and with a hoarse shout, Jannik spurted jism after jism of slightly salty come into Tibor's throat. Tibor swallowed as much as he could and slowly released Jannik. The paly looked at him with a happy satisfied smile.   
Tibor was rock hard and he opened his trousers to grab his own member, but Jannik pulled on his shoulder.

"Lemme do that."

Who was Tibor to say no to that? He got off the bed and undressed quickly. Then he got back and lay on his side facing Jannik and the boy wrapped his hand around Tibor's leaking cock. Jannik's touch was surprisingly firm and sure. Much to Tibor's dismay he didn't last long and it only took a few hard strokes of Jannik to bring him off.

For a while they were content to lay side by side their limbs entwined. Tibor was gently stroking Jannik's hip and they were exchanging deep languid kisses. Suddenly Tibor sensed something warm and furry on his thigh and he glanced down to see Jannik's tail slowly moving up and down his leg in sync to him stroking Jannik's hip. Jannik followed Tibor's eyes and vellicated his tail hectically.

"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I know it's disgusting."

"Oh no, you're not disgusting me. Your tail is very pretty and it feels really good when you do that. So don't stop."

Tibor pulled Jannik back into his embrace and the boy laid his tail back on Tibor's thigh, but he stopped any movement. Tibor put one fingertip lightly on the tail and stroked the soft fur. Jannik had closed his eyes in sheer bliss and seemed to enjoy Tibor's ministrations immensely. Tibor would've liked to stay like that for the whole night and with an internal sigh he finally got up and padded across the floor to get a washcloth from the bathroom to clean them up. That's when he heard the sound of glass shattering.


End file.
